i now know that these things are likely inextricable: cowardice and dishonesty. i didn’t know before.

i promise myself to be unwavering in my honesty until the end of my days. i haven’t yet and plan to never be: so weak as to lie to someone i love.

The thing i miss most about D.C.

the first thing i did upon returning to DC was take the metro, where i promptly got caught up in people watching. it was more like people-appreciating and made me smile real big at strangers as they entered and exited the train… at my stop!

i ran to the doors and managed to smash-wedge a corner of my suitcase into the last four inches of space as they closed. and then i just stood there, malfunction achieved, waiting for them to open again.

i guess in the new cars that doesn’t happen? a kind human who had made it to the platform in appropriate time stopped, rolled their eyes, and reached in to wrench at the doors from their side. grateful me tried to push my suitcase further, knowing that if i had to go to the next stop i could be waiting up to 40min for the next train (wmata riders, you feel me?).

between the two of us we made a gap big enough for me to slip out through, only so i could immediately get my shoulder bag stuck in the closing doors behind me. i yelped in panic, and my helper friend paused, both of us thinking the train would move while i was stuck. with the force of that terror i yanked my should bag free. the kind stranger breathed an understandably, audibly, exasperated sigh of relief and left me, frozen grinning with relief and thanks, in a hurry.

now fully on the platform, kind of hot from exertion but utterly amused, i watched as the train doors opened casually, slowly, all the way, as if i had never been stuck at all.

six months away and i am a complete tourist, y’all. never before have i held up a train! i am that asshole. on an adventure, not a vacation.

the sun comes through after freezing rain and i am (some version of) Holiday Golightly, awed by the shimmer and gleam, holding myself from reaching toward the sparkling teardrop beads of winter that adorn all of yesterday’s bare limbs. a cold wind cuts through, sets the diamonds to dancing. as if the glory of light bouncing through frozen water were not enough dazzle! now the shiny morsels crinkle and tinkle in a soft chit-chatter; a delicate, persistent percussion, first stronger from the south, then softly all around. a million billion carats quivering, each one with its own glint. the wind persists, conducting in orchestral depth much less fragile than it sounds. the sunlight plays. a glassy susurrus bounces in the bare snow. the glitz, the glamour! a show like no other. in attendance, an audience of one, forgetting to chew her breakfast, besotted with the romance of it all.

This article is a good place to start.  From Salty, an incredible publication with a bright af future, and a 22 year old undergrad who could be confused for the author of my own journals.